Walking out the main gate of the keep felt wrong, if not liberating. After what felt like a lifetime within these stone walls, there she was just sauntering out the front door. It was only a short jaunt from the Ziggurat, sequestered within walls of its own, to the gates. A secret tunnel ran beneath the temple near directly to the lower courtyard, dumping her out into an altogether foreign place.

  The things you miss when you ignore the front door.

  She had yet to truly see this part of the keep, a bare stretch sporting only sparse shrubberies, sandwiched between the walls. It was pockmarked with darkened doorways, which she imagined once housed the soldiers of the ruined army. She had been so proud of their plan to draw out the goblins, reducing their numbers before storming the castle…but she had vastly underestimated how many of the creatures filled this place. She’d underestimated almost everything about this place, gauging her expectations from her experiences on the outside—experiences that held no weight in a place so unbound from normalcy.

  This place functioned on an incomparable scale, the challenge only escalating as her group approached the summit. None of their growth could be denied, as they had been forced to uncover unforeseen facets of their own abilities. She would hardly consider the warg riders’ ambush life-threatening any longer. For every trial Anilith had overcome, she’d come out stronger, more in tune with her own abilities. Whatever came next, this empty Keep now felt…strangely disappointing. Living every moment with one foot hanging off the edge, danger her constant companion, peace was nothing less than disconcerting. Despite everything, all the death she'd delivered, she was more on edge than ever, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  She struggled to see the world through the lens of constant paranoia, a state only fostered through relentless hardship.

  No unforeseen challenges barred her way. No fighting through hallways and tunnels, swimming beneath dark waters, or surfacing in feral animal pens. The goblins she did encounter, picking up the shattered pieces of their lives as they prepared for whatever was to come, stood aside, lowering their heads in respect, and fear.

  The stone beneath her feet stood vacant and silent, haunted by nothing more than the ghosts of her passing. Where once there was a thriving army, shattered remnants lingered.

  Then, without pomp or circumstance, she was at the gates. Beyond them, she looked out over the lake stretched before her like glass, reflecting the tranquil skies above. As if exhausted of its power, the wind hardly whispered, leaving the mountaintop undisturbed, serene. Given the chance to appreciate it in a proper state of mind, it would have been beautiful beyond compare.

  It was a shame that rot festered in the mountain's heart.

  The shores of the lake welcomed her steps, hospitable after the unyielding stone of the Keep. Comfort seemed a foreign luxury, considering recent events. Outside of the carpeted hallways, whoever designed this place paid little thought to creature comforts.

  Strange, the way I feel more at home in the wilds nowadays than “safely” behind walls. You're to blame, old man, dragging me all across the Tower with you.

  Unbroken, sky-blue water accompanied her on her walkabout. Years of instinct screamed at her that, at any moment, something would disturb that unblemished pane. No body of water in the Moors was without its tenant, fleeting or otherwise, yet no ripples or bubbles marred the pristine surface. It defied reason that no leviathan lurked beneath that mirror of heaven.

  Anilith sighed, setting her sights on a yet out of sight cave on the far side of the lake, still on alert for an ambush despite appearances. Her feet knew the way she must go. From the beginning, this hunt could only lead her to one place.

  It was only a matter of what lay in wait, but she wouldn’t let herself get in over her head.

  Probably.

  The tunnels leading to the heart of the mountain were unchanged. Anilith had almost expected a contingency of Juggernauts to greet her in the cavern, but found herself disappointed. The dark expanse was empty, save for slow, ceaseless dripping. It was a damp, cool hole in the ground, a place to incubate slimy, creeping things.

  Razhik was going to need a place like this, what with his recent influx of followers. Something told Anilith that her idea of proper accommodations would be ill-suited for the creatures, but everyone deserved a home. She’d ford that river when she found a crossing, though.

  The air did not breathe here, laden with moisture, but the Earth slept, steady and constant. Shifting without thought, she peered through the slumbering giant, the cavern appearing in her mind’s eye. Each falling droplet landed with a ripple, painting the subterrain with countless patterns. She stood amidst a grand tapestry of natural order, one beyond her scale of comprehension. For all that she could see, she lacked the eyes to understand.

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  The bones of the world around her lay like some long-dead skeleton, but for all she knew, this was a creature that didn’t rely on impermanent things like flesh. Across its limbs, countless creatures scurried, each adding minute detail to the monochrome tapestry through which she walked.

  I’d forgotten how beautiful it is, being entrenched within Earth.

  Pushing her Earth Sense, no longer hindered by the Keep’s barriers, she reached down to the depths, finding the gemstone stars that had captivated her on her ascent, the only pinpricks of color she felt. There was an energy to them, a vibration that asserted the truth of their hue beyond reach of her natural sight.

  She walked as she lost herself in the entombed beauty of the Earth. No creature stirred at her passing, and her mind wandered in time with her feet.

  Temperance had always looked down on ornate weaponry. Feeling the gemstones' rhythms, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than that, that there was a purpose her friend didn’t understand.

  With her people’s limited knowledge of magic, their gods' given gifts, that hardly came as a surprise. The thought sparked a question.

  Many of her people’s great heroes had come back from the Tower, so why was their knowledge so lacking? Was it possible the legendary heroes she revered were just that weak? Without a doubt, none had conquered a Hidden Dungeon. Only one group, that she knew of, had ever even found this place.

  Then again, her assumption didn’t account for anyone stumbling on one of these places and dying as a reward.

  Still, Anilith couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing some crucial piece. The Tower had so many rules; why would returning be any different? Secrets kept secrets, and she knew firsthand the Tower’s ability to censor knowledge as it chose.

  Was it that simple? Were her people just ignorant?

  The questions plagued her, even as her feet carried her deeper into the dark. The warren of tunnels withheld no secrets from her, and the trail to the ruined city was clear as day. Others might find themselves hopelessly lost in the labyrinthine abyss, but Anilith could hardly call herself so lucky.

  But her people’s secrets? She couldn’t escape the nagging worry that there were factors beyond her sight, knowledge purposefully hidden. Endlessly she thought, but only one conclusion made sense.

  The Elders, keepers of the knowledge of the ancient Ekreeti…what were they hiding? Supposedly, they passed down their stories to each new Ekreeti, but who knew if they were true in their duty. Once, she’d never have questioned, her faith in her people’s honor absolute…but surviving had opened her eyes. The world was more dangerous than she’d ever imagined, the heights of power beyond her wildest dreams.

  There were many reasons to keep a secret: protection... greed...

  Fear.

  If that was it…what terrible secret haunted them? If that was it…they knew why the Moors were changing, and that was why they urged her people to flee.

  The Elders, if they truly were guilty, would never give up their knowledge willingly. Events might force their hand, but by then, it would likely be too late.

  The Tower, wholly enigmatic, held answers. Already, she’d found her path to Power, but she knew in her core that there was more to achieve here, more that she needed to save her people. Power alone was insufficient; she needed a weapon to combat secrets, to cut away the moldering heart that led her people down this path.

  No matter how deep it went, she would cut out the infection to save her people. The fallout, well, that was a challenge for another day.

  The tunnel before her opened into a vast, underground space housing a forgotten city, its contours limned with bioluminescence.

  She had arrived, and she wasn’t alone.

  Horrible, bestial roars, shrill keening, and sounds she hadn’t the words to describe echoed in the great chamber. Even bereft of understanding, anger suffused the alien voices. Her bravery wavered in the face of the unknown. Somewhere in those sunken ruins, a number of somethings were pissed off.

  Beyond any semblance of doubt, the sounds came from the guardians of which Kewrok had spoken. While his words may have been exaggerated, tangling with anything so dangerous was the last thing on her to-do list. One thing was certain; from the sound of things, Kewrok’s day wasn’t getting any better.

  A smile graced her lips, and she decided to take a chance on foolishness. No part of her would forgive herself if she turned back, leaving Kewrok’s judgment to chance. Maybe, just maybe, the enigmatic guardians would end the cretin, but would that satisfy her?

  In her heart, she knew that nothing short of her Blade in his chest would ease the distaste the disgraced chieftain left her with. Punishment for failure was not the same as justice, leaving her desire for retribution unfulfilled.

  The shadow of a dark, unshapely thing was taking hold of her, and it would be a mistake to let it feast on her, hollowing her out from within. She could not deny her need for retribution, not evil of itself, yet tainted by its touch. To let it fester was to risk letting it grow, better to cut it out before it took hold. No part of her could simply be rationalizing why the fiend needed to die by her hand.

  Certainly not.

  Plus, her foolishness had always paid off in the end. Ori, you’re rubbing off on me, you damn gambling fiend.

  She stepped into the, letting her eyes embrace Fire, and the city bloomed before her. Cool tones greeted her everywhere she looked, but the glowing lifeforms held an undeniable warmth to them, not burning with the heat of fire, yet a beautiful sight to behold. Here and there, fleeting glimpses of creatures teased the edge of her vision, hints of more activity than she expected to find in the aftermath of the battle, but nothing moved her way.

  The city breathed, a kaleidoscope of blue and green tones beneath her eye of Fire. It was time to discover what manner of terror lurked in the deep beneath the mountain.